


The Car Metaphor

by PumpkinLily



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Boys In Love, But maybe Freddie can ;), But with Froger, Fluff, I attempted a bit of humour, John can't make him leave the cupboard, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Roger is a stubborn idiot, The (in)famous cupboard story, writing endings is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 08:49:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20255425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinLily/pseuds/PumpkinLily
Summary: “Deaky, what are you doing crouched like that?” A voice asks.Roger’s heart skips a beat. It’s Freddie, his best friend, his partner in crime, his secret love-“There’s a really big nasty creature currently leaving in this cupboard.”“Fuck you.” He was about to flip him off, then remembered there was a wooden door in his way.OR my take on the (in)famous cupboard story. With Froger ;)





	The Car Metaphor

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write about the (in)famous cupboard story about I'm In Love With My Car for a while now. With adding some Froger, because I can't get enough of them together and I had to add my take on "what could this song mean". Though I didn't think I would end up writing more than 2500 words on this.

John stares in disbelief at the note he finds on the counter. 

“I’m in the cupboard under the sink. Don’t talk to me unless you agree to put my song on the B-side. You know who.” 

His eyes lower to the said cupboard. “…Roger?” He asks hesitantly.

“Oh, finally, you decided to accept my song?” A muffled voice comes from behind the door.

“…What are you doing in this cupboard?”

“You don’t know how to read?! I’m staying in there until you agree to put my song on the B-side of _Bohemian Rhapsody_.”

The silence comes back in the kitchen. John blinks, then sighs. He thought it was over. But apparently, the heated negotiations yesterday weren’t ridiculous and unnecessary enough. 

“Roger, get out of this cupboard.”

“No.”

Well. Maybe if asked nicely…

“Roger, please, get out of this cupboard.” He repeats in a softer tone.

“No. You can ask me "please" in English, German, French or whatever language you want, I won’t come out.”

From the inside, Roger can’t see a thing, but he can hear John sighing loudly. Sighs won’t make him move from here. 

“I’m writing a song that comes from the heart”, he had told them when he was starting to write a song that could go on their new album. Nor Freddie, Brian or John knew the main subject was going to be a car, and though he had the (in)famous title already, he didn’t reveal it. He was happy to see them curious and interested about his song. 

After days of adjustments, he finally presented them his baby, glowing and proud like a parent. Everything fell apart when they started to read the lyrics, which resulted in a mix of surprise, amusement and a lot of disbelief. Yes, “I’m In Love With My Car”. Yes, he was serious about this. 

“Really, Rog? How old are you?”

“Old enough to know when to fight back against injustice.”

Another groan from John.

_I’m In Love With My Car_ is a meaningful and heartfelt song. But the others only see a description of suspiciously suggestive acts and thoughts about a car. They just can’t understand. This song not only deserves to figure on A Night At the Opera, next to _Bohemian Rhapsody, You’re My Best Friend, 39'_, and others, it deserves the B-side too. Despite what his bandmates could say.

“Deaky, what are you doing crouched like that?” A voice asks.

Roger’s heart skips a beat. It’s Freddie, his best friend, his partner in crime, his secret love-

“There’s a really big nasty creature currently leaving in this cupboard.”

“Fuck you.” He was about to flip him off, then remembered there was a wooden door in his way.

Freddie breaths out, relieved. “Oh it’s only you Rog, I thought there was a spider in there.” He then frowns. “What the hell are you doing in there?”

“It’s his way of contesting our decision yesterday.” John explains. “Really mature, as you can see.” 

“It was unfair! I put my heart into this song! Why you narrow-minded twits can’t see it?!”

“Ah yes, we can see very well how much you’d like to act on your impure thoughts about this car.”

Roger groans loudly. “For the last fuckin’ time-”

“It’s a metaphor, we know.” John rolls his eyes.

“Please, let’s not fight like yesterday.” Freddie asks. “We have an album to make.”

“Yes, let’s act like reasonable adults and put my song on the B-side.”

Yet another sigh from John. Freddie stays silent.

“Please Fred, you know how much this song means to me.” He asks in a pleading tone. 

Oh, the singer knows pretty well how his friend fought for his song, defending its writing against the many “you can’t be serious” from Brian and John yesterday. He had turned to him for support, but although he wasn’t openly against it, he was still lukewarm about it. 

“…I don’t know, Roger…”

That was not what he wanted to hear. “Not you too!”

“…Roggie, please, at least come out of this cupboard. You’ll get cramps if you stay inside.”

A few butterflies go off in his stomach. Freddie has such a sweet voice, the way he calls him “Roggie” makes him melt. Maybe he could come out and-

No, he has to stay strong, love cannot corrupt his convictions.

“Sorry Fred, but you know my conditions. I stay in there until you say yes.”

Sure, his entire body won’t thank him when he will get out, but he’ll stay in there all the day if necessary, even if he has to skip meals. They’ll accept eventually. He just had to be patient. He hears a heavy sigh, and some footsteps getting away. 

“I’m too old for this shit.” John groans to Freddie before leaving the kitchen.

The singer was now left alone to deal with Roger. The thought of yanking him off the cupboard crossed his mind, but he was certain his friend would either throw a fit or go sulk in a corner and not say a word to him for the rest of the day. And he’d rather avoid Roger being angry at him. 

He thinks for a bit. Maybe there was some words he could tell that could make him leave the cupboard. Maybe he could confess what he was truly feeling-

His cheeks redden. No, now wasn’t the time. He was certain Roger only wanted to hear “you can have the B-side” or a variant of this sentence right now. Not soft and romantic words. 

He sighs. His friend will get tired of this eventually, after staying a few hours in the cupboard. 

“Bye Roger.” He says before walking away.  
“You’re abandoning me too?!” 

Only the silence responded. He huffs and crosses his arms. Fine! He’ll wait.

-*-

His back hurts. He lacks space to properly stretch his legs. He shifts a bit to find a more comfortable position, but his bum already suffered from the wooden floor. His stomach was starting to growl, he probably spent a few hours in the cupboard already. But it was okay. At the end of day, he would have the B-side. His body could endure these small annoyances.

He was starting to get bored though. Really bored. He tried counting sheep, but it only managed to bore him even more. He tried thinking about new lyrics for a potential song, but he wasn’t really in the mood to be creative. He was still irritated about the way his song had been received by his friends.

_‘I don’t know, Roger…’_

Freddie’s words come to his mind, and he pinches his lips. He had to say yes, eventually. Brian and John were cruel and could let him starve in this cupboard, but not him, his sweet Freddie. Soon enough, he would come back, if only to check on him, and he would eventually give his song the B-side of Bohemian Rhapsody. His song was strong enough, despite what Brian said – as if his own song with his borderline masochistic lyrics was better; “You call me up and treat me like a dog”. 

He only had to wait a little longer. Then, he would hear Freddie’s melodic voice, and-

“Rog?” John’s non-melodic voice startles him.

He groans, before trying to stretch his arms. “You finally agreed to give me the B-side?”

“No, just wanted to check if you were still alive.”

“Psh, I’ll allow myself to die only after I have the B-side.”

And preferably only after he confessed his love to Freddie, got in a relationship with him, married him, moved into a nice house, adopted ten cats, and lived for the rest of his life with him. 

John sighs, for the umpteenth time today. “Roger, you know you’re being ridiculous?”

“I’m not. You’re just the one who doesn’t understand how much this song means to me. And before you go on about how I supposedly wants to fuck a car, I repeat it, my song isn’t about that.”

He sounded really serious. John figures he could listen to him, after all. It certainly could be efficient to make things move, more efficient than wait for Roger’s patience to wear out or, since it looked like he wasn’t going to get out before he got satisfaction, for Death to claim his body.

Or he could blackmail him.

“Roger, if you don’t come out, I’ll tell Freddie everything.”

A deafening silence surrounds the room. Roger feels his blood freezing. 

John couldn’t know. He was only telling him that to pressure him to get out. Yeah.

“Y-You’re bluffing.” He was trying to keep his cool, but he sounded clearly affected.

A smile appears on John’s face. “No Roger, I’m not. I’ll tell him everything.”

Then again, he is so perceptive. It’s not that surprising he could have noticed some signs.

“How do you know about it anyway?!” 

“How I know doesn’t matter, the most important is that I’ll find Freddie and tell him everything.” He continues, calm as always.

Roger feels panic invading his body. He was certain John was perfectly capable of doing it. But he had not right to! 

“T-That’s fucking low, Deaky! You can’t use my feelings as a threat!”

John frowns. He was talking about telling Freddie it was Roger who spilled coffee on one of his favorite shirts yesterday. He had spotted him desperately trying to wipe the stains, when no one was looking.

“…What feelings?”

He then processes the word in his mind. His eyes open wider.

A small distressed cry escapes Roger’s mouth.

_‘Idiot, idiot, fucking stupid idiot!!’_ He thinks as he hides his face in his hands.

A long moment of silence fills the room. Eventually, Roger finds the strength to speak.

“…Can we pretend I never told that?” He asks miserably.

“…Sure, Roger, and I’ll pretend I didn’t hear your question.”

He winces. Why didn’t this cupboard contain a black hole so he could disappear?

“Deaky, please, don’t tell him.” He pleads. “I’ll beg, if that’s what you want.”

“Sorry, I’m not into that.”

Roger wishes he could slap him through the door. “…You know what I mean, you wanker!”

John snorts. “Don’t worry, I was thinking about telling him about the “unfortunate” stains of coffee on his yellow shirt.”

Oh no, that was bad too. Freddie loved this shirt, and he wasn’t sure the stains would disappear. 

“You can’t either! He’s going to kill me!”

“Come on Rog, we all know Freddie could never stay mad at you.” John assures softly. 

“But he can’t know!”

“For the shirt or for your feelings?”

“Oh Deaky, you’re here.” A melodic distant voice says.

Roger’s heart almost burst out of his chest. Once again, it’s Freddie. Still his best friend and partner in crime, not so much his “secret” love anymore. 

“I suppose Rog’s still in there?” He asks, much closer this time.

“Yep.” An idea then crosses his mind. “…Actually, I’ll let you deal with him. I feel like you’re the only one who could make him come out of this cupboard.”

Before the blonde can protest, he hears some footsteps getting away. He breaths in then out several times, but can’t manage to calm down. A little voice in his mind suggests him to use this opportunity to confess his love. 

“I suppose you still want the B-side?” Freddie asks softly after a sigh.

“Yes.” He firmly answers. “…You believe my song isn’t worthy enough to have the B-side?” 

“No! It’s…” He takes a short moment to think. “…Why do you want it so much? Why this song?”

His cheeks burn. “Look, this song is really important to me. It’s not a song about how I’d like to fuck a car, like Deaky or Brian believes. I know the lyrics seem suspicious, but it’s… it’s deeper than that.”

“…What is it about, then?”

_‘Come on. Tell him. Stop fooling around.’_

“It’s about… Caring about one thing. Loving it and cherishing it.” He stops for a moment. “It’s… It’s a love song. The car is just a metaphor for… someone.” He adds with a lower voice.

He can hear how loud his heartbeat is in the silence. “A love song, huh.”

“Yeah.” He confirms, his voice barely audible.

“…About… someone in particular?”

“…You.” He tells in a whisper.

“What? Speak louder, Rog.”

An impulse runs through his body and he quickly opens the cupboard’s door. Freddie, who was crouched, moves backwards to avoid being hit by the door, so fast he looses his balance and falls on his bum. Roger was now on the floor too, on all fours in front of him, face red and heart pounding against his chest. He gets up, avoiding his look, and offers his hand to help him. The singer, who was starting to blush as well, leans forwards and takes his hand. 

He can’t tell if its was the fault of his mind or his body, but he pulled him with so much force Freddie nearly falls on him, and his hands grip his waist to stabilise himself. Roger blushes even more at the sudden closeness, not knowing where to place his own hands. Freddie then leans slightly backwards, and their looks cross. His cheeks were now as red as his own. He can feel the warmth of his fingers, lingering on his waist, although he didn’t need to hold him not to fall anymore. He definitely didn’t mind. It was a pleasant sensation. 

Slowly, one of his hands goes to the singer’s face, gently caressing his cheek. His thumb brushes his lightly parted lips, and he feels like this time, his heart is really going to burst out of his chest.

“I… Soft…” Why wasn’t his brain working anymore?

“What…” Freddie blinks several times. “Rog…”

His other hand lays on Freddie’s hip, and the final spark makes him lean forwards and connect their lips together. The kiss is soft, warm, and unleashes a nest of butterflies in his stomach. None of the two dare to move, and so they stay like this, in each others’ arms, silently enjoying this precious moment, until Roger feels like he has some things to clarify. He lightly leans backwards, and meet Freddie’s beautiful brown eyes again. An awkward but endearing smile appear on both their faces. 

“…My song is… um, about you.” He could do it. “…I-I love you-”

“I love you too.” His response is immediate.

Roger’s heart stops beating for a second. Time seems to stop for a moment.

“Freddie, I…” The singer lays a finger in front of his mouth. 

“You can have the B-side. Now please.” He finishes his sentence with another kiss.

Freddie holds him tighter, closer, and he starts to feel light-headed as the kiss gets more passionate. Words were useless for now, and the B-side deserted his mind as soon as he got out of the cupboard. Their tongues dancing with each other, their hands slowly roaming around each other’s bodies, fingers sliding under his shirt and caressing his skin, all of this was much more important. It felt so good. Occupying a cupboard for a few hours and having a sore body because of it was worth it. 

“What do you mean, “I can’t enter the kitchen” because Fred and Rog are in there?” Brian asks, holding large bags of groceries. “They can’t cook. What are they even doing in there?”

“Most probably each other.” John simply answers.

Brian blinks a few times, then frowns in confusion. “…What-” His eyes gradually open wider at the realisation. “…Are you telling me you’re letting them have sex in the kitchen?!”

John raises his hands. “Chill, Bri. They’re not at this step. Yet, I think. Let’s leave them have some time alone. I think these two needed a moment like this for a while now.”

He looks about to argue for a moment, but eventually sighs. “Fine, I guess you’re right. But I’m warning you, I’m not cleaning any of their mess.”

“I wouldn’t have asked you to.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it :) Kudos and comments are always appreciated.


End file.
